Rising to meet a Challenge
by Xenia007
Summary: Another meeting, another challenge issued and accepted! Sherlock Holmes/Irene Adler. Sequel to First impressions, Second round. Still pre-movie. CHAPTER 4 UP NOW - STORY COMPLETED
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is the sequel to First impressions, Second round; although you don't necessarily have to have read that one to enjoy this. This is still pre-movie.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately still not mine, I am not making any money from this, please don't sue me!**

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**Rising to meet a challenge**

Holmes was leaning back against the wall of the Opera House lobby, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he attempted to drown out the noise of the hundreds of people trying to get as many drinks and as much gossip as possible into the half hour intermission.

He prayed for the bell to return to their seats to come soon, as he felt a pounding headache coming on. What on earth was taking Watson so long?

Finally he saw the doctor reappear, two glasses of whisky in hand.

"Oh, thank God you are back!"

"Sorry, old chap. Ran into a Colonel I served under in Maiwand. Poor man lost his right arm in battle. A good man, one of the few who would always be in the heat of things with the rest of us." Watson handed Holmes one glass, and took a sip of the other.

"Well in the meantime, I have had to listen to Lady Rutherford babbling on about her husband whom she thinks is sleeping with the scullery maid; Mrs Thornton who suspects her butler to be emptying her wine cellar when she is not around; and Lord Canterbury, who thinks somebody has been cheating him at the poker table. Needless to say I refused all of the above."

Watson chuckled. "I believe Mrs Thornton has her eyes set on you for her daughter."

Holmes shuddered. "Good Lord, Watson, do not joke about things like that. I wouldn't even want to see what offspring would come from that hag!"

Watson glanced over Holmes' shoulder.  
"I am sorry to inform you that another one seems to have spotted you. Although, this one is rather lovely, if it is any consolation?"

Holmes' eyes widened in panic. "Quickly, Watson, hide me!"

Watson, the bloody traitor, smiled in warm welcome at the lady approaching. Holmes glared at him and turned around as a familiar voice reached his ears.

"Mr Holmes, I did not expect to run into you here!"

Holmes widened his eyes in surprise, and was stunned for a moment. "Well, that makes two of us then!"

"You mean you were not expecting me this time around?"

Their eyes locked, and Holmes smiled "Indeed, I wasn't. I must be slipping! Or perhaps you have not been up to any mischief lately?"

"Or I might have gotten better at covering my tracks..." She teased flirtatiously.

Watson cleared his throat, and Holmes snapped out of the moment.

"Ah, forgive me!" He motioned toward Watson "Allow me to introduce Dr Watson, Ms Adler"

Watson smiled, and kissed her fingers. "I suspected as much! A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms Adler!"

"Mrs Powell, nowadays."

Holmes, who had been admiring her form, blurted "Pardon?"

"Why yes, my husband is just over there, talking to that other gentleman. He is the one in the blue coat."

Holmes glanced over to the man she pointed out. He was a handsome man, thin and elegant, hair slicked back, with a clean-shaven face. Dressed to the height of fashion, and obviously of considerable wealth. Of course, that was hardly a surprise. The two men were standing quite close together, as if to prevent their conversation from being overheard.

Holmes sneered, thinking the man was obviously no match for her.

"So have you abandoned your old ways? How very surprising!" He grinned at Watson. "Still, old chap, better keep an eye on your bill fold!"

Watson seemed shocked. He burst out "Holmes, that is no way to talk to a lady!", just as Irene asked with a sweet smile, "Is that a challenge?"

Watson opened and closed his mouth several times without making a sound.

Holmes tutted. So very easily deceived by a pretty face. Although he could appreciate her charms as much as the next man, and her charms were _quite_ considerable, he was more fascinated by her devious mind.

"What? Taking Watson's bill fold? Don't be absurd! That is no challenge at all! A child could manage it!"

Watson glared at him as Irene burst out laughing. "Well, how about yours then?"

"Mine?" Holmes pursed his lips in thought, "That should prove more difficult."

"I am quite confident that I will be able to obtain it by the end of the week!"

"Will you now?" Holmes lips twitched in amusement "Very well. Why by the end of the week, might I ask?"

"We will be leaving come Monday," she replied with a bored look, "My husband has some business in Italy he must attend to. I do wish we could stay somewhat longer. London is so much more... interesting." She glanced flirtatiously at Holmes as she finished.

He was captivated by her gaze, drink forgotten halfway to his mouth. Watson averted his eyes with a smile.

The sound of the bell announcing the start of the Second Act snapped Holmes out of his trance. He finished his drink in one swallow, and smirked at the woman.

She glanced over her shoulder as her husband called out to her. "Yes, I'm coming, darling!"

Holmes incredulously felt jealousy shoot through him at her words. He made sure his face displayed no emotion. "Farewell, Mrs Powell."

She smiled coyly over her shoulder as she was turning away. "Au revoir, Mr Holmes! Dr Watson."

Watson lifted his hat and nodded to her. "Goodbye, Mrs Powell!"

* * *

As they sat back in their seats, Watson smiled "Well, that was certainly interesting!"

Holmes hummed absent-mindedly as he intently scanned the crowd, trying to find her and that ridiculous husband of hers.

Watson chuckled. "You, my friend, are smitten!"

Holmes snapped his face around, glaring at Watson. "Don't be ridiculous! I am no such thing!"

"I know you better than anyone Holmes, you seem quite taken with the lady! Keep in mind that she is a married woman now."

Holmes huffed. "Since when did you develop a conscience when it comes to married women?"

Watson sputtered and blushed at the comment.

The lights dimmed and the chatter in the room hushed as the second act commenced.

Watson whispered, "I wonder if she will succeed. In any case, this week should prove most entertaining!"

Holmes' hand shot to the pocket of his jacket, relieved to find the familiar weight of his bill fold still there. He chewed his lip thoughtfully.

Perhaps he had better carry around less cash for the next couple of days...

**A/N Here we go, first chapter of the sequel, and another challenge issued! This story is complete in four chapters, and will be posted over the next few days! Let me know what you think! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Holmes was just locking his bill fold in the safe as Watson entered the room.

"Holmes, what are you doing?"

Holmes looked up, "Do not ask questions to which you already know the answer, Watson, it is not dignified. What does it look like I am doing?"

Watson grinned "It looks like you are cheating! Besides, you know very well that she can crack that safe."

Holmes glared at him "Cheating? How dare you accuse of me cheating? I am merely taking every precaution to make sure that she can not get her hands on it! Between you and her, it will be a miracle if we make the rent this month!"

Watson laughed "You know very well I have tripled my income this month. Of course, I can understand if you are afraid to just carry your bill fold as usual. After all, she is quite the artist, as you yourself have put it in the past! Braver men than you would be worried." He pretended to be studying the engravings on his cane.

Holmes grumbled under his breath, muttering obscenities.

Watson sat back with a smug smile. "What was that old boy?"

Holmes glared at him, snatched the bill fold back from out of the safe, and put it in its usual pocket.

He slammed the safe door shut, poured himself a hefty glass of whisky, downed it and poured another. As he raised it to his lips, Watson remarked offhandedly, "Should you be drinking this much? I do believe you may need your wits about you in the week to come!"

Holmes slammed the glass down on the table and stormed to the door.

Watson innocently questioned, "Was it something I said?"

Holmes abruptly turned around, grabbed his violin, emptied the glass of whisky in one gulp, slammed the empty glass on the table and slammed the door on his way out, so hard that the windows were clattering in the frames.

He could hear Watson chuckling as he stormed up the stairs to his bedroom. It only served to further darken his mood.

He cursed the day that meddlesome doctors were born.

* * *

Holmes informed the hysterical woman, "I am sorry, but I am not able to take your case."

Watson shot him an incredulous glare. Holmes ignored it, and studied the ceiling as he smoked his pipe.

The woman burst into heart-wrenching sobs once more, clutching desperately at Watson's waistcoat.

"I am simply too busy!" Holmes argued, as Watson glared insistently at him.

The doctor gently disengaged the woman's hands, and murmured "Please excuse us, my dear lady, I need to have a word with Mr Holmes."

Holmes was just about to protest as he was violently yanked out of his chair, and unceremoniously shoved outside.

Watson closed the door behind them, and shoved a finger in Holmes' chest

"Holmes! You need to help that woman!"

Holmes swatted at Watson's hand. "That's the advantage of being a consulting detective. I do not need to do anything! I do not find the case interesting, therefore I will not accept it!"

Watson glared at him. "Holmes! You will help that woman!"

"I will not!"

"Yes, you will"

"Will not!"

"I know what this is about!" Watson smirked triumphantly.

Holmes incredulously raised his eyebrows."I don't think that you do."

"Yes, I do. This is about Adler."

Holmes sneered, "Powell, nowadays, Watson, Mrs Powell. And no, it most certainly is not!"

"Yes, it most certainly is! You have not set foot outside for five days now! You will not take any reason to go outside, so you can lock yourself in your room for the rest of the week! It is pathetic!"

Holmes glared at him. "You are not making any sense at all, Watson! This has nothing to do with..."

"Coward."

"WATSON! Don't you dare!"

"Look at this: the great detective, a prisoner in his own house because of a woman!"

"SHE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!" Holmes roared.

"She has everything to do with this! Admit it!"

"I will do no such thing!"

"ADMIT IT!" Watson shouted, grabbing Holmes by the shirt and shaking him violently.

Holmes grabbed Watsons hands, and yanked them loose.

"She has nothing to do with this!" he hissed.

They glared at each other. Watson challenged, "Then prove it!"

Holmes growled "Fine!", opened the door and stepped back inside the room he had just vacated.

The woman looked up at him as he came in, eyes red and swollen from her tears. Holmes glared over his shoulder at Watson, straightened out his shirt where Watson had grabbed him and stiffly said, "Very well, Mrs Godfrey, I will take the case." As she threw her arms around his neck, sobbing in relief, Holmes groaned resignedly.

How did he manage to get talked into this?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Finally I managed to upload this!! Sorry about the delay, document manager was refusing to upload my documents! Thank you very much for all your kind reviews up to now! Here's the next chapter, let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

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The case was solved easily enough.

A simple matter of identifying the true murderer of a constable, so that Mrs Godfrey's son, wrongfully imprisoned, could be set free. It took a bit of running around, but eventually, on sunday morning, they managed to apprehend the culprit, and have the unfortunate young man released.

Holmes hardly felt any satisfaction at the conclusion of the case.

Instead, he was increasingly agitated. He jumped at any unexpected movement, instantly drew back when somebody reached for him, and saw movement in shadows.

He felt as if somebody was constantly watching him, and could not wait to get back to his safehaven, where he could finally see this wretched week to its end.

Watson seemed too amused for his own good, and had been teasing him mercilessly throughout.

Holmes sat at the window of the cab as it pulled into Upper Baker Street, and nervously glanced outside, looking for anything suspicious. Everything seemed normal. People were walking on both sides of the streets, but nobody seemed to paying particular attention to the cab arriving. A group of youths was playing football in the street with a filthy old ball, screaming and laughing loudly as they chased each other.

He sighed in relief as the door to their home appeared in front of him, and felt a smile curve his lips. "Ah Watson, never have I been more relieved to come home as right this moment!"

Watson grinned, and flipped open his watch to check the time. "It does seem that she will not make it! I wonder what stopped her..."

"I frankly do not care! The comfort of my fireplace calls to me! Mrs Hudson should have tea ready by now, and in but a few hours we can put this all behind us!"

Watson smiled indulgently.

Holmes briskly jumped out of the cab, and paid the driver.

As Watson joined him, several things happened in the blink of an eye.

One of the boys enthousiastically kicking the ball, the sound of a smashing window, and Mrs Hudson bursting out of the house, screaming at the top of her lungs. The horse rearing in a panic, wildly kicking at the air, and the group of youths scurrying away in a frenzy, knocking both Holmes and Watson off their feet in their desperate flee for freedom.

Holmes was the first to scramble to his feet again, cursing "Bloody kids!" and reached a hand to help Watson up, whose leg seemed to be troubling him. Holmes bent to pick up Watson's cane, asking "Are you all right?"

He did not even hear Watson's answer as the realization hit him, and all blood drained from his face. He dropped the cane, patting down his pockets, muttering, "No, no, no, no, no!"

Watson faintly queried "Holmes?" just as Holmes breathed "There!" and took off in a mad dash.

He had spotted one of the larger youths, glancing back at him before taking off in a different direction than the rest. He sprinted after the youth, his longer stride catching up to the lad bit by bit.

As they came into a marketplace, the youth had spotted him, and started throwing things in his way. As he stumbled over a crate of apples the boy had overturned, Holmes fell heavily. He growled as he saw his prey getting away.

Thinking quickly, he took off in a different direction, stormed through a bakery, through their kitchen, amongst loud protest of the bakers, and out the back door.

As he rounded the corner into the next alley, he was just in time to grab the youth, and lift him off his feet with a triumphant shout.

"Haha! I've got you now, you little minx!"

As he had suspected, when the youth thrashed wildly to get away from his grasp, he could feel a soft bottom pressing against his stomach, and the swell of her breasts against his arms. He tightened his grip, breathing heavily, and chuckled against her ear as she growled in frustration.

He quickly pulled her further into the darkness of the alley, to get away from prying eyes.

She was dressed in a street urchin's attire, dirt smudged on her cheeks, and a worn cap hiding her auburn curls. He could feel her heart hammering in unison with his, and as he breathed deeply the smell of her and the faintest trace of her perfume still lingering around her form assaulted his senses.

Desire ignited his blood, and sent a shiver up his spine.

He desperately tried to think of anything but the woman in his arms, moving so seductively against him "Will you hold still already?"

"Let me go!"

"So you can run off again? I think not!"

She renewed her efforts with a vengeance, and he grunted as he tried to stop her.

A voice rang out in the alley. "What is going on there?"

They both looked up to see a policeman squinting into the alley, trying to see what was happening.

Holmes frowned as he saw the devious grin on her face just a moment before she cried, "I don't care how much money you give me, I don't want to do that! You are sick! Let me go!"

He widened his eyes in shock as the implication of what she was saying hit him. The policeman cried "You there! Let go of that boy immediately!"

He loosened his grip slightly as the man started to come towards them, and she managed to break free and whirled around to face him, green eyes blazing.

He lunged for her again, and instinctively grabbed her wrists as her hands came down towards him, first the right, then the left one. Incredulously, he noticed the club and the dagger she was holding. Good God, where did they come from?

He noticed the devious grin she sported, and as he warned "Now, be a lady!" she kneed him hard in the groin, knocking all the wind from his lungs.

The pain that shot through him was indescribable, and he staggered back, desperately trying to stay upright, cradling his abused genitals with one hand, and blindly reaching for her with the other as she tried to run off once more.

He managed to grab her by the shirt, and sank to his knees as he was gasping for breath. He did not notice the club coming towards him untill it was an inch from his face, too late to avoid it.

It hit him right on his brow, and knocked him down most effectively. He involuntarily admired her aim. He slammed to the ground, and was trying to decide which part hurt more, as the policeman came up beside him, sternly asking "What the hell is going on here?"

Holmes glared up at him through watering eyes, shouting "He has my wallet, you fool! Grab him!"

The policeman looked startled, and by the time he got to his senses, she was long gone.

Holmes managed to get back to his knees, still doubled over in pain, clutching his groin with one hand, and his face with the other. His eye was swelling rapidly. He felt a bout of nausea coming on, and promptly left the contents of his stomach on the pavement.

The policeman was looking decidedly uncomfortable, "I am sorry, Sir, but the boy got away."

The glare Holmes shot him with his one good eye had the man cringing. "Err.., can I perhaps drop you off somewhere?"

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**A/N The scene where Irene knees him in the groin is shamelessly stolen from the movie trailer, a scene which very sadly did not appear in the film. Such a waste of good material, therefore re-incorporated here! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Holmes let himself in with his house key, and groaned as he spotted the staircase.

He could of course just collapse in the sitting room downstairs, but he really wanted to be in his own room right now.

He resignedly started the painful trek up the staircase, still clutching his hand to his swollen eye. By the time he was halfway, Watson had come out of his office to see what the groaning was.

He looked stunned when he noticed the state Holmes was in.

Holmes glared at him. "Not a word, Watson!"

Watson came down to help him up the stairs. "Good God, Holmes, how did this happen?"

Holmes groaned "She hit me! I can't believe she hit me!"

Watson chuckled "And did a pretty good job of it too by the looks of it! It seems that you are making a habit of underestimating her! Why are you stooped over? Did you hurt your back too? Oh! Right!" Watson grimaced as he deduced the nature of Holmes' injury. "My sympathies, old chap! It seems like that wasn't a soft blow either!"

"Alas, Watson, I fear it is my pride that has taken the worst blow of all! I can't believe she managed to get away. Again! That is twice now! What is it about this woman? I must be losing my edge!"

Watson chuckled in response. "Hardly. Distracted perhaps! In any case, she made a proper idiot out of you!"

Holmes glared at the doctor.

Watson ignored him and enquired "Now, do you want to lie down in your room or should we brave another set of stairs to get you to your bedroom?"

"God have mercy, just put me on my tiger rug! I think I might actually be sick again if I don't lie down soon!"

When they got to the room, Holmes very very carefully lowered himself to the rug, and settled down on his back. He groaned in relief.

"Now" said Watson "Let's have a look at that eye of yours." Holmes reluctantly lowered his hand. Watson whistled as he appraised the damage. "That will be all colours of the rainbow for at least a fortnight I would say! Just keep the pressure on it for now. I will see if Mrs Hudson has some ice in stock. That should help reduce the swelling. For your other injury, not much we can do at this point I'm afraid. Would you say the pain has increased or decreased since the actual blow?"

Holmes frowned. "Decreased, if only slightly."

"That is a good sign. It means that the damage is not that extensive. You will probably be sore until tomorrow at least, but there shouldn't be any... lasting effects." He winked playfully as he stood up to leave.

Holmes grumbled. "So wonderful to see at least one of us is finding this an amusing situation."

Watson smiled. "I'll be right back."

* * *

Holmes didn't look up as he heard the door softly opening and closing again. "At last! I do hope you have that ice! Do you mind drawing the curtains? I feel quite a headache coming on. I think I might have a concussion actually, although the nausea could still be from the blow to my groin..."

"Oh, you poor man! If only you could have accepted defeat gracefully!"

He looked up to see the woman sauntering towards him, swaying her hips. He groaned. "What are you doing here?"

She casually deposited his bill fold on the nearest table. "I have come to return this. After all, I have no use for it. And to see how you are doing."

She squatted down beside him and gently brushed a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead to the side.

He warily eyed her, and jumped slightly as she moved towards him.

She smiled. "Relax, Holmes. I did not mean to hurt you! You just wouldn't let go! I guess that is what happens when two determined people have opposite goals. Let me have a look at your eye."

She swung one leg across his closest thigh, which got a startled response from Holmes. "Watch where you are putting that knee!"

She smirked, and settled down, effectively straddling his right thigh, and leaned forward with her elbows on his chest, one hand absent-mindedly fingering the collar of his shirt.

Their eyes locked, and for a moment they just sat like that, studying each other.

Holmes vaguely noticed his heart rate had increased slightly since her appearance.

Anxiety, he reasoned, perfectly natural when faced with an adversary.

She gently grasped his hand, and drew it away from his face. She bit her lower lip as she saw the damage, and very slowly ran her hand from his temple to the bottom of his jaw.

He swallowed convulsively, studying her face, eyes drawn to that bottom lip being held by her teeth. He resisted the temptation to reach over and pull it free.

She bent over him, and started following the same track her fingers just passed with her lips.

Holmes whispered as she got near his ear. "What about your husband?"

She groaned softly in his ear. "My husband prefers the company of men. How odd that you did not notice that... I will wait until we get back to America, catch him in the act, demand a divorce, and receive a generous settlement for my trouble. But let's not talk about him, I am more interested in other things at present..."

Holmes hissed as she licked the shell of his ear, and gently bit down on the lobe. He groaned as she found a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. His hands found their way around her waist by their own accord, and Holmes cursed his weakness. "I wonder" he whispered "Is it the chase that excites you? Or is it the thrill of besting me specifically?"

She grinned, grazed his neck with her teeth, and slowly started grinding herself against his thigh. She brought her mouth within an inch of his, and breathed "A little bit of both, I suspect. I have to admit, it is so much more exciting when it is you doing the chasing."

Holmes closed the gap between them at this, and claimed her mouth. Their kiss was frantic, tongues and teeth battling for dominance. His head swam with the overpowering sensations beating down upon him. Her smell; her taste; the feel of her fingers, now grasping his head, and playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. And the feeling of his own hands, one buried in her auburn curls, her cap discarded to the side; and the other grasping her side, thumb caressing the underside of her breast. It was only the need for oxygen that broke them apart.

She was grinding against him more determinedly now, and groaned as Holmes started laving kisses on the side of her neck. She hurriedly tugged his shirt loose from his trousers as he palmed her breast, and ran her hands under the shirt , exploring his chest and stomach.

Holmes laid back, and watched her intently, as she let her hands drift even lower. As she palmed him through his trousers, he chuckled softly.

She looked up at the sound, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"I do apologize, but no matter what you do tonight, you will not be getting any movement down there!"

He grinned as he watched the different emotions playing out across her face. Shock, followed shortly by disbelief, and finally frustration. He laughed as she jumped up, and stood looking down on him. Holmes smirked triumphantly. "That is what they call: Facing the consequences of your actions, my dear! Only yourself to blame!"

She smiled wryly, and admitted, "I suppose I can't really argue that point..."

She sighed, and bent to pick up her cap. "I should probably go..." She slipped out of the room with a last lingering glance and a saucy wink. "Until next time, Mr Holmes!" He could hear the window on the landing opening and closing.

* * *

Holmes was still chuckling amusedly when Watson came in with a towel filled with ice a few minutes later.

"Holmes?" he questioned "I am sorry it took this long, Mrs Hudson didn't have any ice, so I quickly ran to the butchery on the corner of the street to get some!"

Holmes started laughing again, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

Watson frowned as he handed Holmes the towel. "Oh dear. Maybe you hit your head harder than I thought. Let me go get my medical supplies!"

Holmes pressed the towel to his eye, and let out a final chuckle.

Watson entered the room again, medical bag in hand.

Holmes was still pressing the ice to his head with an amused grin.  
After reconsidering, he transferred the bag of ice to his groin instead. "Watson? I think I might need another ice pack!"

The End

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**A/N: Yes! My second story finished! Third one should be coming soon, carrying on in the same timeline, and things will be heating up between our dear Sherlock and Irene, so will normally be rated M! **

**Please review, all comments are welcome! :D**


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